


Operation Openmorth

by castronomicaaal



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fuck Or Die, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22147231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castronomicaaal/pseuds/castronomicaaal
Summary: “Nat, what’s going on? What is,” Tony pauses, shaking his chains, “this?”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Peter Parker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 95





	Operation Openmorth

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fuck or die situation aka forced sex between two non-consenting people. If that is not your cup of fictional tea, please exit now.

Tony comes to slowly, his vision blurry and arms heavy.

He blinks back his slumber, eyelid twitching slightly of its own accord, and opens both eyes. His black pupils are so large you can barely see the brown beneath.

He wants nothing more than to reach up and wipe the sleep from his eyes, but something around his wrists catches his attention. He pulls once, twice, before looking down in both fear and anger.

Tony’s arms are pinned to his side by giant metal cuffs that extend around his torso and up to his neck. The bulky metal constraints his entire upper half. Disgruntled, he attempts to wiggle about but to no avail.

“Tony.”

A voice to his left breaks his concentration and he falters, turning to meet Natasha’s gaze. She’s pinned down in a similar fashion, a wisp of red hair strewn in front of her face. She blows it out of the way.

“Nat, what’s going on? What is,” Tony pauses, shaking his chains, “ _this_?”

Natasha frowns deeply, which only works to unsettle Tony further. “We’ve been captured.” She tells him, as if that isn’t already obvious. “All of us.”

“All of us?” He repeats slowly. It suddenly dawns on him; the mission. Tony looks around frantically, spotting Bucky, Clint, Wanda, Peter, and Rocket all in similar positions to his and Natasha’s own. His heart drops.

“Peter, hey Pete. You doing okay down there?” He questions, his voice wavering.

Peter nods numbly, voice hoarse once he speaks. “I’m okay, Mr. Stark.”

Tony doesn’t really believe him, but hearing his voice is enough for the moment. “Everyone doing alright?”

“Just peachy,” Clint grimaces.

Wanda, Bucky, and Rocket all simply nod.

“Good. Now, what the hell happened?” He questions, his frown lines creasing deeply. The last thing Tony can remember is landing on Openmorth and being bombarded by a cloud of bluish smoke. He’d been choking, the smoke was so thick, and that’s when things had gone dark.

Clearly the smoke had affected the others just the same.

Tony is about to say something else when the curtains they’re hidden behind open slightly, and in walks a humanoid figure, save for the purple, scaly skin.

The being smiles up at them before clapping its hands together. “Welcome all, welcome!”

“Listen freak,” Tony begins. “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing but you’re messing with the wro – ”

The being flicks its wrist and suddenly Tony’s mouth is being clamped shut by a large piece of metal. He squirms, attempting to break free, but to no avail.

“Are we done? Or does anybody else want a new accessory like the one you’re friend is wearing?” The humanoid questions.

No one speaks up and so it smiles, satisfied. “I’m not interested in talking _with_ you, just to you. Is that clear? Good. Now, we’ve been tracking your ship since it entered our atmosphere, a good hour or so before you landed. Let me be clear: humans are not welcome on Openmorth, especially those seeking what I assume you’ve been seeking? Hmm. Our precious resources are ours, and ours only.”

Natasha’s lip turns downward into a scowl, but she doesn’t say anything.

“And so,” the creature continues. “You will be punished. Normally we save this ceremony for Openmorth criminals, but I feel it will work all the same for you.”

Punishment? Ceremony? Peter’s stomach turns uncomfortably at the thought and he glances around, catching eyes with Clint who nods softly, doing his best to comfort the young man from a distance.

The humanoid pulls on the edge of the curtain and it drops around them with a loud thud. Suddenly a stream of lights are on them, a conglomerate of the very same humanoid figures are sat about around them in what appears to be a colosseum style seating.

Wanda blanches, looking around frantically.

Bucky’s flesh hand twitches, everything within him wants to rip off the metal and kill the figures. He knows he can’t, not willing to risk the groups safety.

Rocket simply rolls his eyes, having been in a similar situation before once or twice.

“A fight to the death,” Natasha whispers to Clint, shaking her head grimly. “We need an escape plan. Now.”

“Openmorth residents, young and old, I present to you a real treat this evening – the Avengers, for one night only.” The humanoid smiles widely, his scales parting slightly upon his face. “Now, now, now. Who to choose for tonight’s events?”

He pauses, turning to look his options over. Eyeing the group, his gaze eventually lands mischievously upon Bucky, who growls lowly at him. With another flick of the wrist, Bucky is released from his confines. He drops to his knees before the humanoid being.

A group of armed figures appear from the shadows, their weapons raised and prime, and halts any ideas Bucky may be having right now of escaping and saving the group.

He stands numbly, cupping at his metal hand. He works the fingers back and forth, testing as if to make sure they’re still functioning properly.

The figure’s gaze leaves Bucky and he returns to the group, looking over his remaining options. His mischievous grin turns deadly in a way that discomforts Bucky greatly. He doesn’t need to turn and look to see who the being is pointing to.

Peter lets out a sob as his chains come off, his head shaking wildly. He knows he doesn’t stand a chance with any of them, but Bucky especially. It’s cruel to assume this fight will be fair at all.

One of the guards wraps their arm around Peter’s and drags him forward until he’s standing beside Bucky.

From his position to their far right, Tony attempts to scream through his cuffed mouth. The sounds are muffled and unable to be made out.

“He’s just a kid,” Rocket points out, shaking his head. “Come on.”

The humanoid pauses to think over his words before grinning and flicking his wrist, causing Rocket’s mouth to cover as well.

Peter shakes beside Bucky, so much so that he can practically feel it, and his heart hurts for the young man. Bucky wants to reassure him, to let him know that he’s going to throw the match to save Peter’s life, but he has no way to get the message across.

“And now,” the ringleader turns to face the audience, his wide smile still present. Natasha watches, nauseous and pissed off. “связь.”

The humanoids words cause Bucky to frown deeply, confusion settling in. He knows the word is Russian, that it loosely translates to ‘connection’ or ‘coupling’. Bucky pauses, turning to meet gazes with Natasha who seems equally as conflicted. She shakes her head, red hair moving as she does so.

The leader turns back towards Bucky and Peter, signaling towards their bodies. “Take off your clothes and the evening can begin.”

Oh.

_Oh._

Bucky flinches, looking away and towards Peter. The younger of the two looks small, confused still, and Bucky has to swallow back bile. He doesn’t know yet, doesn’t _understand_.

The humanoid must come to the same conclusion because he laughs loudly, a sickening laugh that bubbles over and causes the group to shiver harder.

He pauses, leaning in to whisper something within Peter’s ear. When he pulls away, all color is drained from the young man’s face. He turns to meet gazes with Bucky, shaking his head frantically.

“No, no, please!” He cries, no longer caring if he looks stupid in front of the crowd, in front of his friends. He can’t do this, he just can’t.

One of the guards approaches, pushing his weapon against the back of Peter’s head. Peter flinches but doesn’t move any further.

“You will do as I say, and you will do it now.” The creature announces. “My audience is waiting, and you will not like them when they’re impatient. Now, take off your clothes.”

Bucky refuses to be told twice, to give them the satisfaction of pointing their weapons at his own head, and begins to strip.

Peter stands still, still shaking. The weapon makes a noise, as though being turned on, and Peter dips down, frantically pulling off his pants.

Bucky’s never been shy about being naked, nudity has never bothered him, but he knows the same can’t be said for Peter. The boy is left in only boxers, his fingertips twisted around the top, too afraid to pull them off.

Bucky sighs deeply before turning and kneeling before Peter. He gives him an apologetic look before reaching forward to cup the hem. Peter flinches backwards and Bucky swallows thickly, closing both eyes while sighing. He pulls Peter’s boxers off before tossing them aside while Peter covers himself with his hand.

He doesn’t want this, doesn’t want to be the reason Peter becomes ruined, but they have to. There are too many guards, too many chances that the team will be murdered if they don’t comply.

_Comply._

Bucky brushes the thought from his head. This is not a mission. It’s survival. They have to.

Slowly, and with a pitiful gaze of reassurance from Peter – he’s come to the same conclusion as Bucky – he moves his hands. His cock is soft, surrounded by tufts of brown hair. Bucky sighs for what feels like the fiftieth time that night, before reaching out and taking Peter into his flesh hand.

Peter gasps at the simple sensation before blushing deeply. The crowd laughs, settling in for the show, and Peter’s ears burn.

“Ignore them,” Bucky whispers, shaking his head. He spits into his hand before returning it to the appendage. Ever so slowly he begins to stroke him. “It’s just you and me, okay Pete? Just the two of us.”

Peter nods, though he doesn’t seem entirely convinced. It doesn’t take Peter long to harden, he is a nineteen year old male despite the circumstances, and Bucky shifts, taking his own cock into his hands as he continues jerking off Peter.

Bucky doesn’t dare turn around and look behind him, not wanting to see the looks of pity in his friends eyes, see their trembling lips.

He’s hard by now too, and wonders briefly if they could get away with coming from hand jobs alone. As if the humanoid can read his mind, he turns to face the excited audience. “And now, the finale!”

And fuck, can’t Bucky find a win anywhere? There’s no way he wants to do this, wants to put Peter through the trauma.

The weapon behind him turns back on, making another noise, and Bucky sighs resignedly. He takes Peter’s hand, helping him down into a laying position on the floor. His hand is cool to the touch, fingers trembling.

“I’ve never…” Peter trails off, looking away, ashamed. Bucky’s disapproval deepens, his heart breaking.

“It’s just us, right Pete?” Bucky asks to which Peter nods.

Bucky rests over Peter, covering his modesty with his hip. He spits into his hand once more before bending downward and pressing his fingertips against his own hole.

Peter’s eyes close, expecting the worst, but opens both eyes back up when nothing comes.

“You’re going to have me, Peter, alright? It will be easier for you this way.” Bucky whispers, fingering himself open the best he can given the angle and lack of lubrication. His erection wilts slightly, resting upon Peter’s hip.

Peter nods slowly, blowing out a stream of air he never realized he was holding in. “I can,” he swallows, “I will be careful, Bucky.”

It takes Bucky some time to adjust to the intrusion but eventually he works in a third finger, stretching himself open, and nods, ready for Peter to take his place.

They switch positions, Peter on top, and Bucky whispers words of encouragement as Peter lines up and enters him slowly, his cock spit soaked and hard.

Bucky grimaces, biting at his lower lip. It stings and rips at him in a way he’s never felt before. Peter stills, his face unreadable, but Bucky urges him to continue. The sooner they go through with it, the sooner it’s over.

When Bucky tells him to, Peter begins to thrust carefully in and out. Tears well up in Bucky’s eyes, spilling over, and he’s embarrassed up until Peter bends forward, kissing up the tears.

“You’re okay, Bucky. It’s just us.” He kisses his lips briefly, thumbing over Bucky’s long brown locks.

They find a rhythm soon after, Bucky’s erection blooming once more, and it doesn’t take long at all for Peter to come. He pulls out, coating Bucky’s stomach. Bucky uses the come as lube to stroke himself off, finishing himself minutes later.

His chest heaves, body more limber than before, but his guard is still up. Bucky is about to speak up, to ask if it’s over, when the same bluish smoke from before coats the air and causes him to lull off.

* * *

Natasha is the last to wake, finding herself in bewildered company. The entire group is in the aircraft, back at their landing base, buckled in and ready to go.

Tony is by Peter’s side, his face constricting when he makes to rub the boys back and Peter flinches away, inwardly curling up upon himself.

Bucky is in the back of the cab by himself, face unreadable. Natasha frowns.

She wants to hug him, to tell him that it’s not his fault, that he did what any of them would have had to do, but she knows he’s not ready to hear it. Not yet. She settles for sighing instead.

Openmorth has been the biggest mistake of their Avengers career.

Rocket grumbles something under his breath, a good riddance to the God forsaken land, and starts up the aircraft before taking off.

Bucky just wonders if Peter will be okay, too afraid to ask. To look him back in the eyes.

Peter wonders the same.


End file.
